


tomorrow may be even brighter than today

by sarahyyy



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, First Kiss, Love Confessions, M/M, Misunderstandings, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-04
Updated: 2014-06-04
Packaged: 2018-02-03 08:34:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1738118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarahyyy/pseuds/sarahyyy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Courfeyrac’s heart skips a beat. “With a book he borrowed from the library?” he asks, aware that he’s grasping at straws. “With a new species of moth?” </p><p>Enjolras snorts. “With a person,” he tells Courfeyrac, rolling his eyes. “I asked.”</p><p>“Combeferre is in love with a person,” Courfeyrac says, and feels a tightening in his chest. “Oh.”</p><p>(Or, the one where Courfeyrac finds out that Combeferre is in love and freaks out.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	tomorrow may be even brighter than today

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kiyala](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiyala/gifts).



> HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY KII. <3

“Combeferre is doing his thing again?” Courfeyrac says as he settles down next to Enjolras, keeping his voice down even though Combeferre isn’t even in the living room with them. 

Enjolras nods, but doesn’t look up from his textbook. “Two hours now,” he tells Courfeyrac. 

Courfeyrac frowns. He was just with Combeferre about two and a half hours ago, which means that Combeferre headed straight home after having lunch with him, and Combeferre hadn’t mentioned having anything on his mind during, which is odd since, well, Combeferre is comfortable enough with him to tell him _everything_. Feuilly even jokes about them have sharing sessions over brunch every weekend. 

That Combeferre would keep something that troubles him enough for him to coop himself up in his room for a quiet thinking session from Courfeyrac makes him feel irrationally upset. 

“What’s the problem?” he asks Enjolras, keeping his voice even and casual. 

At that, Enjolras caps his highlighter and looks over to Courfeyrac, arching an eyebrow. “Did he not tell you?” he asks, but the question is mostly rhetorical since he goes on to answer Enjolras’ question. “He’s in love.”

Courfeyrac’s heart skips a beat. “With a book he borrowed from the library?” he asks, aware that he’s grasping at straws. “With a new species of moth?”

Enjolras snorts. “With a person,” he tells Courfeyrac, rolling his eyes. “I asked.”

“Combeferre is in love with a person,” Courfeyrac says, and feels a tightening in his chest. “Oh.”

—

It’s hard to keep his best friends, both of whom he shares an apartment with, from knowing that he’s in love with one of them, but Courfeyrac likes to think that he’s doing quite well at it.

Is it hard having to see Combeferre leaning against the headboard of his bed, legs spread wide open to allow room for his laptop, highlighter in his mouth, as Courfeyrac makes his way back to his room? Is it hard having to see Combeferre sleepily making coffee in the kitchen every morning, hair sticking up in every direction, pyjamas bottom hanging low on his hips? Is it hard having to come home to Combeferre, smiling gently at him and asking him about his day, and actually _listening_ in interest when Courfeyrac starts to chatter about his day? Yes, it is, but Courfeyrac has amazing restraints, and hasn’t even once tried to jump Combeferre yet. 

Combeferre is one of his best friends and Courfeyrac would never want to do anything that could potentially ruin their friendship. Combeferre is too important, and Courfeyrac is not going to risk that. 

If that means that he has to suck it up and congratulate Combeferre on finding love, then he’s damn well going to do it, because he’s an adult, and he’s fucking in love with Combeferre, and if being in love with someone else makes Combeferre happy, then Courfeyrac is not big enough a jerk to spoil it for him. 

He deserves to be happy, and Courfeyrac can deal with it.

—

Courfeyrac cannot deal with it.

Because about two hours after Courfeyrac comes back to their apartment, Combeferre finally emerges from his room, and he’s grinning and looking so _happy_ that it makes him want to hole up in his room to cry. He doesn’t make a move to talk about it, moving to the kitchen to make dinner instead, and neither Courfeyrac nor Enjolras touch on the subject, because this is a Combeferre Thing — if he wants to talk about it, he will. 

He doesn’t, though, because he’s an adult, and he can deal with this like an adult. He fidgets on the couch for several minutes, and after the third questioning look Enjolras sends him, Courfeyrac makes an executive decision and sends a text to Marius.

 **To: Marius**  
SOS CALL ME NOW

 **From: Marius**  
???

 **To: Marius**  
S O S

His phone rings, the caller ID telling him that Marius is calling, and he picks up quickly. “Hey, Marius,” Courfeyrac says, “What’s up?”

“You asked me to call,” Marius says, sounding confused. “Are you okay?” 

“What?” Courfeyrac says, and laughs, aware that Enjolras is looking at him. “Dinner? Today? Right now? Yeah, sure, I suppose I can. Yeah, well, if you insist. I’ll be there within the hour.” 

He hangs up and goes into the kitchen. 

Combeferre is humming as he cooks, muscles in his arm flexing as he tosses the chicken stir fry in the pan up. Fuck, Combeferre’s in an excellent mood. He’s probably going to tell them that he’s successfully concluded that he’s in love over dinner, and Courfeyrac can’t do that, not right now. His heart is not strong enough for this kind of heartbreak. He really needs time to process. 

“Hey,” he says, and Combeferre looks over his shoulder to smile at him, bright and easy, and fuck, Courfeyrac is _so in love with him_. 

“Hey yourself,” Combeferre says, and plates the stir fry. “Are you hungry already? Dinner will be ready in twenty minutes so no snacking.”

“I’m not staying for dinner,” he tells Combeferre, almost blurts it out really, but he makes up for it by continuing to speak before Combeferre can say anything. “Marius called. I think he’s having some troubles with Cosette, and he needs me to go over right now.”

Combeferre’s face falls. “Oh. I made your favourite tofu dish.”

Courfeyrac needs to get the fuck out of here before he does something stupid like grab Combeferre by the shoulders and shake him, yelling that he’s in love with him until Combeferre gets it.

“Keep my share for me,” he says, managing a small smile. “I’ll warm it up for supper or something.” Probably the or something. He’s got tentative plans to stay on Marius’ couch for the night. 

Or the rest of his life, if it doesn’t mean living in constant heartbreak. 

He’s really not picky. 

—

“What’s wrong?” Marius asks, as he opens the door to let Courfeyrac in. “Did the professor chide you for outrageously exceeding the word count limit again? Did you get an A instead of an A+?”

Courfeyrac slumps face-down into Marius’ couch. “Can I stay here tonight?” he asks, voice muffled by the couch.

“Of course!” Marius says, and crouches down next to the couch. “Are you alright? Do you want to talk about it?”

“Can I stay here forever?” Courfeyrac mumbles, and Marius, bless him, just pats his hair and tells him that he’s going to make him a hot cup of tea.

Seven warm cups of tea later, Courfeyrac is nestled between Marius and Cosette, moaning about his pathetic love life. Well, sort of.

“Isn’t it the worst when one best friend falls in love with another best friend and the other best friend just loves someone else?” Courfeyrac lets out a long exhale. “It’s just— So _unfair_.”

Cosette sighs. “You know you can just tell us that you’re in love with Combeferre, right?” Courfeyrac almost snaps his neck in his haste to turn his head over to look at Cosette. “Don’t look so surprised,” she says with a small smile. “We all had our doubts.”

“We did?” Marius asks. 

Cosette laughs. “Okay, well, maybe we didn’t all have our doubts. You hide it really well, but I had my suspicions.”

Courfeyrac leans his head on her shoulder and groans. “What do I _do_?” Marius rubs his back soothingly. “I’m stupidly in love with him, and he’s in love with someone else! Soon he’s going to be dating someone else, and bringing them home for dinner, and maybe they’ll be into PDA, and fuck, I have to see Combeferre kissing someone else.” He draws in a sharp breath, horrified. “I can’t do that, oh my God, I have to move out. I have to move to another continent.”

“You’re overreacting,” Cosette says. “You’re not moving to another continent.”

“Asia,” Courfeyrac says with a decisive nod. “I could find a remote city somewhere in Asia and live as a nomad. China is big, I could move to China. I’ll never accidentally see Combeferre on a date if I’m living in China.” 

“You can’t speak Mandarin,” Marius reminds him. 

“I’ll learn,” Courfeyrac retorts. “You can teach me.”

“It mightn’t be so bad,” Cosette tells him. “Do you know who Combeferre is in love with? It might not even be love! He might just have a passing fancy on a classmate.” 

“An exchange student!” Marius chimes in. “Who may or may not be leaving at the end of the month when the semester is over.”

Courfeyrac thinks back about how happy Combeferre had looked when he left his room after his four-hour long quiet thinking session, thinks about how Combeferre had seemed to _glow_ and thrum with excitement, thinks about how Combeferre had been humming in the kitchen as he cooked. 

He sighs. “He’s in love alright.”

—

 **From: Combeferre**  
What time will you be back from Marius’? There’s something I need to tell you.

 **To: Combeferre**  
I think I’m going to stay the night. I’ll see you tomorrow. :)

 **From: Combeferre**  
Oh.

 **From: Combeferre**  
I’ll talk to you tomorrow, then. 

**From: Combeferre**  
There are chocolate chip cookies in the oven, if you come in early tomorrow and want something to eat. 

**From: Combeferre**  
Goodnight.

 **To: Combeferre**  
Goodnight. x

—

“I’m never going to go back,” Courfeyrac slurs. They’d switch out tea for vodka mid-talking about Combeferre, mainly because he’d been really pathetic and Marius had taken pity on him, Courfeyrac thinks. “I’m never going to be able to talk to Combeferre without a piece of my heart breaking again.”

“It’s going to be fine,” Cosette says, curled up against him, rubbing his arm absently. “ _You’re_ going to be fine. I know it might not seem like it now, but there are plenty of other people. And you’re so brilliant, everyone would be lining up for a piece of you.”

Courfeyrac sniffs. “I don’t want anyone else,” he says, and is horrified to hear his voice break. “I only want Combeferre.”

Marius tightens his grip around Courfeyrac’s waist. “You should talk to him,” he tells Courfeyrac. “I talked to Cosette, even though I was scared out of my mind, and look where we are now.”

“It’s different,” Courfeyrac says, and sniffs again. “Combeferre is so- So… _perfect_. He’s got a gorgeous face, and he’s so smart, and he’s got so many things going for him, and he’s so _nice_ , and he volunteers at the animal shelter, and tutors struggling first years for free, and he’s got a really nice smile, and when he laughs, he literally makes the world brighter, and I’m just… I’m just _so in love with him_ , and nothing is ever going to be okay again.”

—

Combeferre calls him in the morning, an hour before his first Thursday morning lecture, probably to ask him if he wants to go get breakfast together. Combeferre doesn’t have any classes until after lunch, but he likes to wake up early because he really likes to eat breakfast, and they always get breakfast together before Courfeyrac’s first lecture. 

It’s probably something that they wouldn’t do anymore after Combeferre starts seriously dating someone else, because then Combeferre would want to be around _them_ all the time, because they make him happy, and Courfeyrac would be left to go get breakfast by himself. He might even have to go to another diner to get his breakfast, because Combeferre might want to have breakfast dates in their usual diner, and Courfeyrac doesn’t think he can sit there and watch them smile at each other and pretend that he doesn’t feel horrible.

He stuffs his phone under the cushions on Marius’ couch, muffling its ring, and goes to steal some of Marius’ clothes so he can take a shower. If he doesn’t pick up, maybe Combeferre will ask his potential (or new, depending on how fast Combeferre is acting) significant other to breakfast instead, and they’ll hold hands as they eat pancakes and smile at each other and be deliriously happy.

He stops by a new café on his way to class, gets a muffin (it tastes horrible), and figures that he would probably have to stop eating breakfast altogether. 

—

Courfeyrac goes straight home after his lectures, because he knows that Combeferre would be in a tutorial and wouldn’t be at home, planning to get some fresh clothes and hideout at Marius’ place again. If he gets takeout and groceries, and promises to do some chores around the apartment, he doesn’t think Marius would mind if he actually moved in. Marius has a very nice couch.

He gets ambushed by Enjolras instead.

“You’ve been avoiding Combeferre,” Enjolras says, the moment Courfeyrac unlocks the front door and opens it, and Courfeyrac wonders briefly if he could shut the door and sprint down the stairwell. He could probably take Enjolras in a race. Probably. If he runs past the café in the next block, maybe Enjolras would get distracted by Grantaire. “ _Why_ have you been avoiding Combeferre?”

“I am not avoiding Combeferre,” Courfeyrac says, squeezing past Enjolras to get into the apartment. “I’ve been at Marius’. He’s very upset, he needs me.”

“I just saw Marius in the library just now,” Enjolras says, crossing his arms and frowning at Courfeyrac, looking every bit like an upset parent. “Marius is a really bad liar.”

“Fine, you caught us,” Courfeyrac says, shrugging. “Marius, Cosette and I are engaged in a threesome.”

Enjolras narrows his eyes. “Courfeyrac, stop lying to me,” he says. “I don’t know why the both of you insist on lying to me, it’s not like I can’t tell when you are.”

“Both of us?” Courfeyrac asks. 

“You’re lying to me about avoiding Combeferre,” Enjolras says. “Combeferre is lying to me about not being upset about it.”

“He isn’t upset about it,” Courfeyrac says, “because there’s nothing to be upset about, because I’m not avoiding him.”

Enjolras looks at him for a long moment, holds his gaze and just stares at him silently. “He didn’t get breakfast this morning,” he tells Courfeyrac, and turns to walk back to his room.

—

“But what does that even _mean_?” Courfeyrac wails into his phone. 

“It just means that he didn’t go for breakfast,” Marius says. “Does it have to mean anything else? Maybe he just wasn’t hungry.”

“Enjolras said it like it meant something,” Courfeyrac says.

“It’s Enjolras,” Marius says. “Grantaire’s been in love with him for years now and he hasn’t figured it out yet. Is his judgement really the most reliable one right now?”

“Point.” Courfeyrac hums thoughtfully. “You aren’t either. You called me to cry for two whole hours about how pretty Cosette was while you were sitting outside outside the lecture hall she was in. _She_ had to ask you out. Is Cosette with you? I want to talk to Cosette.”

Marius sighs and passes the phone over to Cosette. 

“What does that even _mean_?” Courfeyrac asks again. 

“Why didn’t you go out for breakfast with him?” Cosette asks instead of replying to his question. 

Courfeyrac snorts. “Because heartbreak is awful.”

“You always get breakfast together on Thursdays, right?” Cosette says. “What did you think he was going to do if you didn’t go get breakfast with him?”

Courfeyrac sighs and hugs his pillow to himself a little tighter. It doesn’t do anything to relieve the painful clench in his chest. “I figured he would go out for breakfast with whoever it is he was in love with.”

Cosette hums, and it’s not her I-Don’t-Know-What-To-Say- That-Wouldn’t-Make-You-Upset hum, it’s her I-Have-This-Theory-And-I-Might-Be-Right hum. 

“What?” Courfeyrac asks. 

“Let’s say that Combeferre is in love and he does start dating someone he loves dearly,” Cosette says, and Courfeyrac lets out a whimper. “You’re afraid that your friendship with him is going to get displaced, but the breakfast thing tells us that it’s not going to, because he’d rather not eat breakfast than get breakfast without you.” 

Oh.

It’s comforting to know that Combeferre would still want to be his friend even after he starts dating, and the tightening sensation in his chest eases, but not by much.

“But that’s not really the problem here,” Cosette continues. “The real problem is that you’re in love with Combeferre and you don’t _want_ him to date anyone who isn’t you, and I can’t be a hundred percent sure, but I don’t think it’s an actual problem.”

Courfeyrac frowns. “Wha—”

“Talk to him,” Cosette says forcefully. “We’re disinviting you from Marius’ apartment tonight. _Talk to him_.”

—

 **From: Enjolras**  
You need to talk to Combeferre. I’ll stay out tonight to give you privacy.

—

Courfeyrac has been staring at the wall clock for the last ten minutes, watching the second hand make its round, and counting down to when Combeferre comes home. 

He should be back any time now, and Courfeyrac knows that he shouldn’t be such a frazzle of nerves, because it’s _Combeferre_ , no-one else makes him feel more comfortable than Combeferre does, and he’s got Joly, Bossuet and Grantaire on standby to get him stupidly drunk in case everything goes south, but he’s fidgeting on the couch, and he actually had to sit on his hands for a minute to stop himself from trying to do something really dumb, like buy an air ticket to China. 

He’s worried. There’s a lot weighing on this conversation with Combeferre. No matter what happens, something is going to change between them, even if they —if _Combeferre_ — doesn’t want it to.

He hears the jingle of keys, and his heart skips a beat, before Combeferre is opening the door. 

“Oh,” Combeferre says upon spotting Courfeyrac on the couch. “You’re back.” He gives Courfeyrac that soft, tired smile that says that he’s had a really long day, and Courfeyrac clenches his fist, because the lack of breakfast probably had something to do with it. He can’t even keep Combeferre happy for a day, he’s _horrible_. 

“I think we need to talk,” Courfeyrac blurts out, and steadfastly avoids Combeferre’s gaze. He hears Combeferre shrug off his coat and then he’s sitting down next to Courfeyrac on the couch. “Enjolras told me you’re in love.”

Combeferre clears his throat. “I am,” he confirms. 

“Do they make you happy?” Courfeyrac asks, still not looking at Combeferre, because he isn’t sure if he’ll be able to keep himself composed if he looks at him.

“Yes,” Combeferre says, and then lets out a soft huff of laughter. “Ridiculously so.”

Courfeyrac feels a prickling in his eyes and quickly blinks away the tears welling up. “Right,” he says, and is proud of the way his voice doesn’t crack. “That’s good. I’m happy for you.” 

He can’t do it. He can’t tell Combeferre that he’s in love with him because Combeferre has found someone who makes him _ridiculously happy_ , how can Courfeyrac compare with that?

“I should go,” he says, after a short pause. “I have a thing—”

“Are you not going to ask me who it is?” Combeferre asks.

Courfeyrac manages a weak smile. “It’s none of my business,” he says.

“You don’t know that,” Combeferre says quietly, and Courfeyrac draws in a sharp breath.

“Are you— Are you in love with Enjolras?” His eyes widen, because he really wouldn’t have expected that, but Enjolras was at home when Combeferre had his moment of epiphany. Combeferre could have very well walked into the apartment and saw Enjolras and have everything suddenly click into place. 

He takes a few quick breaths, and wow, it looks like he’s going to have to move to China after all, because what could be worse than living in an apartment with Enjolras and Combeferre when he’s in love with Combeferre who is in love with Enjolras?

“It’s not Enjolras,” Combeferre says, looking mildly horrified that Courfeyrac would suggest that, and Courfeyrac isn’t proud of the intense relief he feels at hearing that. “It’s _you_ , you idiot.”

Courfeyrac is pretty sure his heart stops beating. 

“I don’t know how I could’ve missed it,” Combeferre is saying. “I thought about it yesterday, and God, I must have been in love with you for _years_ now. I don’t know why I never realised.”

“Me?” Courfeyrac croaks. “ _Me?_ ”

“It couldn’t be anyone else,” Combeferre says with a wry grin. “I’m in love with you.”

Courfeyrac just gapes at Combeferre for a long moment, because nothing is making sense right now. “You’re in love with me,” he says slowly, and there’s a dusting of pink on Combeferre’s cheeks when he nods. “You, Combeferre, are in love with me, Courfeyrac.”

Combeferre smiles. “You’re my best friend, you make me ridiculously happy, and I’m so in love with you.”

“Fuck,” Courfeyrac breathes out. “Fuck.”

Combeferre’s smile falls a little at that. “It’s okay if you don’t feel the same way. I’m not asking—”

“I do,” Courfeyrac says hurriedly, because there will be no more miscommunication from this point onwards, he swears. “I do, fuck, I’m so in love with you too. I was at Marius’ apartment last night crying to him and Cosette about how much I loved you and how you were in love with someone else and—”

“Oh,” Combeferre says. “That’s why you left. I was going to tell you over dinner. I was so bummed when you left.”

Courfeyrac laughs, and he’s so happy he feels his heart could burst. “I didn’t want to hear you talking about how much you were in love with someone who wasn’t me. I was going to move to China.”

“I should’ve told you right after I came out from my room,” Combeferre says. “I’m so stupid.”

“We’re both so stupid,” Courfeyrac corrects, grinning, and on a whim, reaches out to take Combeferre’s hand in his. 

Combeferre is grinning too when Courfeyrac laces their fingers together. “May I kiss you?” he asks, leaning in closer.

“Yes,” Courfeyrac breathes out. “Yes, yes, yes. Please kiss me,” he babbles, and Combeferre closes the gap between their lips, pressing his lips to Courfeyrac’s softly, once, twice, thrice, and then deepens the kiss, tangles his fingers in Courfeyrac’s hair and uses it to guide him closer, kisses him until Courfeyrac is a shivering mess of emotions. 

“I love you,” Combeferre whispers when he pulls away to rest their foreheads together.

“Thank fuck,” Courfeyrac says, and laughs. “I didn’t really want to have to move to China.”

—

 **To: Joly, Bossuet, Grantaire**  
CODE BLACK CODE BLACK 

**From: Grantaire**  
code red is for us to go get you out of your apartment. the fuck is code black?

 **To: Grantaire**  
CODE BLACK = COURFEYRAC IS GETTING THE D TONIGHT :DDD

 **To: Grantaire**  
COMBEFERRE’S D, TO BE SPECIFIC, SINCE HE IS NOW MY BOYFRIEND. :DDDDD

 **From: Grantaire**  
apollo is banging his head repeatedly on the table now. i think you broke him.

 **To: Grantaire**  
Why is Enjolras with you?

 **To: Grantaire**  
GRANTAIRE IS IT CODE BLACK FOR YOU TOO

 **To: Grantaire**  
BUT WITH ENJOLRAS’ D. COMBEFERRE IS MY BOYFRIEND, HIS D IS MINE.

 **To: Grantaire**  
COMBEFERRE IS MY BOYFRIEND!!! :DDDDDD

 **To: Grantaire**  
GRANTAIRE I’M SO HAPPY

 **To: Grantaire**  
OH, USE PROTECTION. SAFE SEX IS GOOD SEX. 

**To: Grantaire**  
I’M GOING TO HAVE SAFE SEX WITH MY BOYFRIEND, COMBEFERRE, NOW. 

**To: Grantaire**  
COMBEFERRE IS MY BOYFRIEND AHHHHHHH!!!!!!!! :DDDDDDDDDDDD

**Author's Note:**

> I'm [here on tumblr](http://sarah-yyy.tumblr.com), come say hi! :D


End file.
